Gemotions

He’d called, voice bright with excitement, describing the house, the view, the prospects. Liam leaned back on the uncomfortable couch, the worn cushions pressing against his spine. Across the city, across the country. It barely registered.

He picked at a loose thread on the armrest, pulling it until it snapped. He imagined the vastness of the distance, the miles stretching between them. His stomach didn't twist, he didn’t feel the expected pang of regret.

“Sounds… great,” he said, his tone devoid of inflection. He found himself staring at the intricate patterns of the popcorn ceiling, lost in the texture, the monotony of it.